


is this more than you bargained for yet?

by cardinal__sin



Category: Auf Streife
Genre: Angst, Drama, Fluff, Found Family, Friends to Lovers, Idiots in Love, M/M, Miscommunication, More tags to come with later chapters, Multiple Pairings, POV Moritz Breuer, Workplace Relationship, everyone is at least bisexual welcome to hell, except for interlude chapters, the usual auf streife bullshit
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-02
Updated: 2020-12-07
Packaged: 2021-02-28 03:15:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 10,825
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22526920
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cardinal__sin/pseuds/cardinal__sin
Summary: Moritz Breuer transfers to the Mülheim precinct. With the help of his best friend, Clara Ortega, Moritz starts the difficult process of settling into a new team. He makes new friends and reconnects with old ones, and takes up the pace of the busy station. Everything is fine.Until Arne Schneider appears in his life.
Relationships: Ben Decker/Erik Stein, Clara Ortega/OFC, Jule Polanski/OFC, Moritz Breuer & Clara Ortega, Moritz Breuer & Stephan Sindera, Moritz Breuer & Tom Mayer, Moritz Breuer/Arne Schneider, Moritz Breuer/Stephan Sindera, Paul Richter & Stephan Sindera, Paul Richter/Stephan Sindera
Comments: 8
Kudos: 15





	1. New Perspective

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Raijin](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Raijin/gifts), [the_lie_eternal](https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_lie_eternal/gifts).



> Hi, lovelies! This is my first proper Auf Streife fic, and my first multichapter story ever! I'm really excited about it and I hope you'll like it. Have fun!  
> (title from Sugar, We're Going Down by Fall Out Boy)  
> (rated explicit for future chapters *wink*)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> title from New Perspective by Panic! at the Disco :)

Moritz dials Clara’s number with shaking fingers. He’s standing outside of his house and he really just wants to go back inside and curl up under the covers. He feels like he’s twenty-one again, fresh out of the academy and about to start at his first workplace. And he _desperately_ needs a cigarette. Too bad they made him quit when he enrolled in the academy. _Too fucking bad_.

Clara picks up after a few rings and informs Moritz that she’ll be there in five minutes, be a little patient. So Moritz tries that. It works for, like, half a minute, and then he’s back to chewing his nails and pacing in front of his house. He’s fucking nervous. Because he’s about to have his first day at the Mülheim station in Köln. Because he hasn’t had to fit into a new group of people in the last ten years and it’s probably going to go fucking awful. And because Clara is a little late and he’s anxious they won’t get there on time.

The black Suzuki rolls up after exactly seven minutes and thirteen seconds, not that Moritz counted or anything. He gets into the passenger seat and greets his best friend with a kiss on the cheek. She in turn drops a paper bag in his lap that has a suspiciously croissant-y smell to it. Which reminds Moritz that he’s skipped breakfast. Again.

“Thanks,” he mutters, and takes a bite out of the offered pastry. It’s good. It’s really good because Clara is dating a professional baker and she gets to leech off her and just take stuff for free. Which really works out for Moritz right now, because he’s really needed to eat something and his anxiety dissipates with each bite of crispy buttery goodness. He smiles at Clara gratefully – probably looking like a hamster because his mouth is stuffed full of croissant. She just grins back at him and starts the car.

The thing about Clara is that she drives like a madman. If she were not an officer as well or Moritz were not currently off-duty _and_ her passenger, he would probably pull her over without hesitation. As things are now, he just prays that they’ll never ever go on patrol together, or he’ll just get to drive instead of her. However, they do make the fifteen-minute ride in about twelve so Moritz decides to not mind it at all.

There’s another tug of anxiety in his stomach when they pull up to the station. It looks almost identical to his old one, but… It’s intimidating, in a way. Maybe because it’s a terrifyingly new situation. He has no way of knowing how the people are going to be, or what to expect. It’s been a while since he started with his previous team, so he doesn’t have anything to rely on.

“Hey,” Clara says quietly, nudging him with her elbow a little, “it’s gonna be alright. You know what you’re supposed to do first, so do that, and then just the rest of the stuff will come along. You got this.”

He’s supposed to report to the captain first of all. Yes. He can do that. Then he should get to know people. Familiarize himself with his schedule. Find his locker and put his stuff into it. Talk about himself if people are curious. Do his job. It’s going to be fucking fine.

“Thanks, Clara,” Moritz mutters, and opens the door. He pretends that his legs aren’t almost buckling under him as he gets out, and hopes that Clara hasn’t noticed either. It’s really just nerves. He’s a good and capable policeman and he’s going to do alright on his first day. Even if he feels like passing out in a parking lot for now.

Clara says goodbye to him and goes downstairs to the basement level to get changed into her uniform, so Moritz now knows where he should look for the lockers, which is great. He walks up to the entrance. For a while, he just stands on the topmost stair and contemplates Things. His croissant now gone, he’s chewing on his lower lip instead. Which is not amazing, he tells himself, along with a stern _stop it_. He should start carrying around chewing gum so he doesn’t end up tearing the skin open. Maybe invest in a mouth guard.

Whoever is on reception duty must have noticed him standing there for the past minute or two because the door buzzes open unprompted, and wakes Moritz from his contemplative trance. He pulls the door open and goes through, hoping he looks at least somewhat composed.

The man at the counter is average height, with a round face and what could only be described as a half-goatee half-stubble look. It’s unusual, sort of, but it suits him. Makes him look friendly. He smiles at Moritz and introduces himself as Winter, and asks what he wants. Nicely. _How can I help you?_ is what he says to be exact.

Moritz starts to explain, with surprising eloquence, who he is and what he’s doing there. As soon as he says his name, Winter’s face lights up and before Moritz can say another word he’s folding up the counter and coming out to greet him. Moritz accepts the handshake and endures the pat on the shoulder with a tight little smile.

“Moritz Breuer, that’s right!” Winter exclaims, “You’re our new team member! Good to meet you, buddy! I’m Florian, but just call me Flo. Everyone does.”

Flo is incredibly friendly and has a radiant aura and an infectious grin that has Moritz unconsciously starting to relax. It’s still super early so there’s no one there yet, and so Flo takes him around the building to show him stuff. Moritz is barely nervous at all by the time Flo introduces him to the coffee machine in the break room.

“He’s a real princess, you know,” Flo says, gently patting the side of the machine, “makes real good coffee but we need to call someone to fix him every other week.”

They both almost forget about Moritz needing to be briefed, so there’s a bit of panic and rushing as they go to the captain’s office to get Moritz officially briefed and welcomed to the team. It goes quicker than expected, and an hour later Moritz is already changing into patrol uniform at his newly assigned locker. He’s alone, so everyone else is probably already upstairs, which is good. He doesn’t feel like making introductions while he’s changing.

His schedule, printed and freshly taped to the inside of his locker, tells him that he’s going to start his first day on patrol duty with Senior Inspector Sindera. He also knows that Chief Inspector Weber is their commanding officer today, and he remembers Clara talking about him fondly, so he probably doesn’t need to worry about him.

Moritz tugs at his shirt here and there because it creases in all the wrong ways under his vest, and combs through his hair with his fingers to make sure he doesn’t look frazzled. He pats his pockets to check if he has everything he might need, slides his hand along the utility belt making sure the gun and handcuffs are there, and with a heavy sigh, heads upstairs.

He’s barely through the door again when he’s pulled into a bone-crushing hug. For a second he panics, but then the stranger starts talking and he recognises the high-pitched voice and the slight accent of the man. He wraps his arms around Tom and melts into the hug, laughing against his chest.

“Hey, son,” Tom murmurs against the top of Moritz’s head, lips brushing his hair. Moritz hugs him a little tighter at that, letting himself be comforted by the familiar embrace of his friend.

Tom Mayer is about ten years older than Moritz. He is, for all intents and purposes, an endlessly strange man. He’s tall, muscular and intimidating, but somehow, at the same time, the sweetest person Moritz has ever known. And he’s practically adopted Moritz ever since their first meeting at a police conference a few years ago. He and his husband Muri are like a second family to him, and also proof that it’s possible to date a colleague, even when you’re police.

“Hi, Tom,” Moritz laughs, and finally pushes him away. He turns to Muri and greets him with a smile and a firm handshake. Muri’s never been one for physical affection save for his husband. “Great to see you both.”

“And you, duckling,” Tom chuckles, and ruffles Moritz’s neatly styled blonde hair. The bastard. Moritz huffs, pretending to be annoyed. “What’s on your schedule for today?”

“Patrol with, uh, Sindera,” Moritz says after a second of thinking.

Tom grins at him. “He’s cool! You’re going to like him.” Then, without any warning, he turns in the direction of the break room and shouts at the top of his lungs, “Ayo, Stephan! Get your ass out here!”

Moritz pretends he didn’t just flinch, and turns his attention to the policeman now approaching them.

Senior Inspector Sindera is about Moritz’s height, built, and altogether one of the most attractive people Moritz has ever seen. He notes that as an objective truth. His hair is slicked back, his beard is trimmed freshly, and his bone structure makes him look slightly arrogant, but not to the point of hostility. As he comes – more like saunters – closer Moritz sees the pale blue eyes and the absurdly long eyelashes as well. He’s got his shirt rolled up to the elbows and he’s wearing black leather gloves, which is a combination that shouldn’t work but somehow does, and Moritz catches himself staring as Sindera tugs the glove off his right and offers it.

“Stephan Sindera,” the man says, “just call me Stephan. Good to meet you, Breuer.”

“Moritz,” Moritz says incredibly eloquently, as he takes the offered hand, “Moritz is fine.”

“Great,” Stephan grins, “you ready for patrol, Moritz?”

Moritz glances up at Tom. He smiles down at him in that supportive, _you can do this_ way, and pats Moritz on the back. Moritz smiles back and turns to Stephan.

“Suppose I am, partner,” he says with a crooked smirk.

Stephan nods, pleased with the answer.

“Let’s go then.”

And they go indeed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> as always, thank you for reading! leave kudos or a comment with your thoughts, or come yell at me on tumblr at @cardinalxsin. if you're not on tumblr, you'll find me on twitter and instagram with the same handle. i love hearing from my readers!


	2. Cool Patrol

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we go, y'all! Moritz's first day and other happenings! Hope you'll like it!  
> (title from...cool patrol. we all know cool patrol. come on, it was funny.)

Patrol with Stephan is… an experience. Moritz gets the impression that he’s not a very serious person, constantly cracking jokes and teasing Moritz about being the new kid on the block – his words. But he’s also fucking intimidating on duty, which Moritz finds out fairly quickly, as they get their first call of the day.

The shoplifter they were called on stole alcohol and cigarettes and is weirdly cooperative right until Stephan hooks the handcuffs off his belt. After catching a glimpse of them, the man pushes them both to the side and bolts, running towards the emergency exit in the back of the shop. Moritz doesn’t waste a second and sprints after him, narrowly avoiding customers and displays, screaming at the man to stop.

He finally manages to catch and tackle the man and the next moment Stephan is there too, handcuffing the perp and sitting him up against the freezer. Moritz wants to laugh about the situation. It must be a little humiliating to get arrested with a bunch of frozen pizzas as your only audience. The man struggles against his cuffs, and then, _then_ , Stephan gets real scary.

He's only talking to the man, but the way all humour disappears from his raised voice is sending chills down Moritz’s spine. He’s glad he’s not the one receiving an earful from Stephan. The man seems to shrink with every word Stephan yells at him, especially when it comes to the grounds of his arrest and reading him his rights. It’s only when they’re back at the car with the perp secured in the backseat that Moritz relaxes again.

“Scared you, new kid?” Stephan chuckles as he gets into the car, and Moritz laughs a little at that, because…yeah, actually.

“That’s alright. You’ll get used to it. I just can’t keep my calm around the goddamn lunatics running around this city, you know.”

“Oh, I get it,” Moritz sighs, and casts a glance at their perp in the rearview mirror, who is quietly making offended faces. Probably doesn’t like being called a lunatic then.

“Good to know I’m not the only one,” Stephan snorts, and puts the car into gear. “Nice work, by the way, tackling him like that.”

“Thanks,” Moritz mutters. He decides to just take the compliment instead of enlightening Stephan about how he’s been in the force for over a decade. It’s his first day here, he doesn’t need to already get someone to dislike him for correcting him on everything. Especially not a superior officer.

They bring the perp back to the station to process him, obviously. Moritz is the one to escort the less than willing perp inside, and receives a bunch of noisy congratulations for his first arrest at the precinct from all the officers present. Muri takes the perp off his hands and heads off with Stephan – because he has the storeowner’s contact info – to start on paperwork and all that.

Clara sidles up to him, a coy grin on her face.

“First arrest, huh?” she asks, “I’m surprised Stephan let you get all the credit for it. He likes getting attention.”

Moritz can’t stop himself from laughing at that. “Technically he arrested the guy, you know, I just chased him down. Maybe he wanted me to have a good experience with it? He seems nice enough.”

“Oh no, he is definitely nice,” Clara smiles, “just also…vain as fuck. But I like him. Everyone does.”

“Guess I’ll jump on the bandwagon then,” Moritz mutters, his attention drifting away from the conversation suddenly. He has a strange, tingling feeling, like he’s being watched. His eyes dart all across the hallway of the station, looking for the reason behind the sensation.

Said reason is talking to Flo just a few meters away, and his eyes keep flitting back and forth between his conversational partner and Moritz. He’s shorter than Moritz and a little heavier built, with dark, spiky hair and short stubble. He’s standing with his legs spread and thumbs hooked into his belt. The whole picture reminds Moritz of Clint Eastwood’s western films. If Clint Eastwood was shorter, German, and less _classically handsome_ , of course. He looks over again and their eyes meet – and for some reason Moritz feels like he’s been struck by electricity. Then those stormy blue eyes are back to focusing on Flo, and the moment is over, leaving Moritz dazed and confused.

“-can give you the link to his Facebook fan group,” he hears Clara say. Whoops.

“Sorry, what?”

“I just said I can show you his Facebook fan group.”

“The cowboy’s?”

“No, Stephan’s – what cowboy? Moritz, are you alright?”

“The cowboy, talking to Flo. Who is he?”

Clara looks at him for a second, her expression confused and a little worried, before she looks over to where Flo is standing, and realization dawns on her.

“Oh, that’s Arne, Arne Schneider,” she says with a little smile, “I don’t think he has a fan group but he’s sweet enough. Wanna say hi to him?”

And before Moritz can say _that’s a terrible idea, actually,_ Clara is yelling for Arne to come over and say hello.

“Clara, what the fuck,” Moritz hisses, “I really didn’t want this t – _hi there_ , I’m Moritz Breuer, I started today, nice to meet you!”

He pretends he doesn’t see Clara laughing at how quickly he changed his entire personality mid-sentence. Arne accepts Moritz’s offered hand and shakes it with a curious little smile hiding in the corner of his mouth.

“Arne Schneider,” he drawls, “great to have you with us, Mo.”

Moritz stares a little. He doesn’t get called Mo all too often, or more like not at all since the time he started high school. He’s always been Moritz, even to his parents and the few partners he’s had since then. Arne calling him that right off the bat, in that surprisingly sweet voice of his, with that fucking smile and those eyes fixed on him… Moritz feels heat creeping up his cheeks but he doesn’t look away. Somewhere in his mind he registers that he still hasn’t let go of Arne’s hand but he can’t find it in himself to let go, and apparently neither does Arne.

An arm coming down on his shoulder snaps him out of his trance-like state and he snaps back to reality, drops Arne’s hand like he’s been burned and all but jumps back. The hand, he finds out, belongs to Stephan, back from finalizing their perp’s arrest.

“Come on, new kid, let’s get back on patrol,” he exclaims, “I’ll treat you to lunch to celebrate your first arrest.”

Moritz goes after him, because that’s his job. He casts a last glance at Arne before turning away, a little disappointed that he didn’t have the time to get to know him better. He feels Arne’s eyes following him until they’re out of the building, and he just can’t stop himself from blushing a little. His right palm is burning still, after having touched Arne, and Moritz shoves it in his pocket to stop thinking about it. He hopes work and Stephan’s company will distract him, because right now there’s only one thought filling his head, banging against the walls of his mind relentlessly.

_Arne, Arne, Arne, Arne_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> kind of a short one, boys, but the next one is gonna be longer (thats what she said)  
> find me on various social media as @cardinalxsin :3 i mostly live on tumblr but you'll find me on instagram and twitter as well  
> thanks for reading! comments and kudos appreciated <3


	3. Kitty, Kitty

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The day goes on, and gets progressively weirder.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi this might be ooc but it's fun so suck it up!  
> Title is pretty obvious once you read the chapter lmao  
> Have fun!

The rest of patrol duty goes by without any major incidents. Which is good, speaking as a policeman, but as a selfish little man Moritz is a bit disappointed that there wasn’t anything to take his mind off a certain Senior Inspector. It’s even worse because Stephan notices and will not stop asking what got into Moritz’s head that took away his attention.

All in all, it’s a successful first day, though. After the arrest in the morning, they break up a street fight, find a lady’s missing purse – dumped into a garbage can about five meters away – and before Moritz knows it, it’s time to head back to the station and sign off at the end of their shift.

Moritz ends up making acquaintances in the locker room after all. Erik Stein and Jule Polanski, the patrol officers of the upcoming shift. Moritz shakes their hands with a tense little smile and answers a couple of quick questions before they let him get back to putting on more clothes than just his underwear. He definitely doesn’t miss Erik checking him out, and bites his bottom lip as he turns away to pull on his shirt. Not that he’s shy or ashamed of his body, not at all, but the hunger in Erik’s eyes makes him flustered.

Jule and Erik say their goodbyes soon after and Moritz is left alone with Stephan once again. He rummages around his locker in silence, and nearly jumps when he hears Stephan’s voice right behind himself.

“Listen, you don’t need to worry about Erik,” Stephan says, “he likes to act all thirsty to rile up Ben – uh, Chief Inspector Decker, but he wouldn’t do anything against him.”

Moritz turns to face Stephan. “You mean they’re –”

“Together? Yes. For almost a year now. Super grossly in love, too. You’ll see.”

“Huh. Isn’t it weird that you have two couples amongst yourself? I mean, doesn’t it affect work?”

“Oh, we don’t mind at all,” Stephan laughs, “and it’s not just two. You’ll meet Florian’s fiancé soon enough, and before you were here there was also a bunch more drama happening. But things are settling down now and it’s actually pretty chill. The couples work well together, there are no problems with HR, and it’s easier than having a love life outside of work, let me tell you that.”

Moritz thinks back to his relationships in the past ten years, all ruined by his impossibly busy schedule. “Yeah, I get that,” he mutters with a bitter smile.

“Oh, cheer up, buttercup,” Stephan says with a nudge of his elbow between Moritz’s ribs, “let’s go and sign out. Where do you live? I’ll give you a lift home.”

Moritz accepts with a grateful smile, seeing as Clara is working a double shift so he wouldn’t have any other means of getting home. They exit the locker room and go upstairs to sign out at the front desk. Moritz says silent praise to his loose civilian clothes that feel so much nicer than the uniform in the August warmth. Truly, the only downside of being on patrol is not getting to wear shorts and t-shirts.

“What are _you_ doing here?” Moritz hears Stephan ask. From someone. He doesn’t know who because Stephan’s wide frame is essentially blocking him from seeing past him and inside the office space. But then Stephan steps aside to let Moritz enter and he sees the person Stephan was talking to.

He’s…not whatever Moritz expected. He’s stocky and really short, way shorter than anyone Moritz has met here so far, and he has short stubble covering his round cheeks. He’s…actually disgustingly handsome and Moritz finds himself needing to stop an unconscious eye roll because for some reason _everyone_ at this station is attractive.

“Aww, I thought you’d be happy to see me, kitten,” the man purrs, looking up at Stephan with big puppy eyes.

“For fuck’s sake, don’t start with this again...” Stephan mutters, then turns to Moritz with pleading eyes. Moritz understands what he’s supposed to do and even though he has no clue what exactly is going on, he steps forward and sticks his hand out.

“Moritz Breuer, hi. I’m new here.”

“Paul Richter,” the man smirks, which only makes him more attractive. It’s straight up evil of him. “Nice to meet you, Moritz.”

“Alright, you can stop dazzling him,” Stephan huffs. “Out with it. Why are you here?”

“Fine,” Paul smiles innocently, “I was in the area and I really didn’t feel like getting the bus home so I thought I’d hitch a ride with my darling Stephan.”

“Oh fuck off,” Stephan scoffs, “you can take the fucking bus just fine.”

“Come on, be a sweet little kitty? It’s not that far and you know it.”

Moritz stares at Stephan as Stephan stares at Paul, lips pressed into a tight line and a pale hint of a blush on his high cheekbones.

“Fine,” he mutters then, “but Moritz gets the passenger seat because I actually offered to take him home.”

“Great!” Paul exclaims, and before Moritz can politely ask what the fuck just happened, he’s out the door.

Stephan signs them out both with a heavy sigh and then they’re out of there.

The banter between Paul and Stephan doesn’t stop once they’re in the car. Moritz buckles himself into the passenger seat of Stephan’s BMW and tries to keep his face under control as the situation gets more and more out of hand. Paul sits in the middle of the backseat, leaning forward with his arms on the two front seats and he will not stop talking. He’s nice, actually, and pretty funny, and Moritz starts to relax the more he listens to him. It appears to have the opposite effect on Stephan.

“Can you please fasten your seatbelt? You’re a police officer, for Christ’s sake!” He snaps, glowering at Paul in the rearview mirror.

Paul leans back with a sigh. “So are you, I trust you to drive responsibly. I must say, you’re not being too nice, kitten. What’s gotten into you?”

“Maybe I’d be nicer if you stopped embarrassing me in front of a person we barely even know! Jesus, Paul, I don’t need this right now!”

Moritz tries to shrink into his seat. He has the feeling that there’s something more between Paul and Stephan than just a simple work acquaintance relationship, and that they might be in the middle of a crisis. Which is not great, because right now, Moritz is caught up in it too, with practically no choice to escape, as they are in a moving car.

He decides to zone out and make a mental shopping list, because he knows for a fact that he forgot to stock his fridge and all he has are three beers and a slice of pizza from four days ago that he should definitely throw out. List making turns into thinking over the events of the day, which inevitably leads to Arne slipping back into his mind.

He doesn’t know what to make of their one short interaction. The spark of electricity as their eyes met, the burning hand… It’s all the worst clichés one sees in romantic movies, but here he is anyway, feeling like a fucking clown, or worse, a lovesick teenager, because he can’t stop thinking about the way Arne’s lips curled up into a smirk as he shook Moritz’s hand, or the way he said _Mo_ in that gentle voice of his… He thinks about the dry warmth of his hand, clasped around his, and how neither of them wanted to let go. He’s confused, to say in the least, and he doesn’t know if it’s in a good way or not.

A tap on his shoulder brings Moritz back to reality. He turns back to face Paul, who flashes a crooked grin at him.

“It was nice to meet you, Moritz,” he says, and gets out of the car before Moritz can answer. Stephan starts the car again, and as Moritz casts a glance at him, he can see the tensing of his shoulders and the way he clenches his jaw. If he wasn’t wearing his gloves – why is he wearing gloves in August? And after work? – Moritz could probably see his knuckles whitening, judging by the death grip he has on the steering wheel.

“Listen, um,” Moritz starts, curiosity taking over him, “not to pry but are you guys…”

“We’re not together, if that’s what you’re asking,” Stephan mutters, eyes fixed on the road.

“I don’t get it.”

Stephan glances over at him and lets out a heavy sigh.

“Paul and I have been partners ever since we both started here. I… Have liked him for about the same amount of time. God this makes me sound like I’m fifteen.” He shakes his head, and Moritz notices an embarrassed flush on his cheeks. He wants to say that it’s okay and he doesn’t need to know, but… He’s really curious.

“It’s probably the most public secret of the station. Everyone knows, and yet everyone pretends they don’t.”

“And he doesn’t, uh, return those feelings?” Moritz interjects.

“God, no,” Stephan laughs bitterly.

“Is he not into men?”

“Darling, everyone at this fucking station is at least a little into men. He’s no exception.”

“What’s the problem then? I mean, who wouldn’t want to date you?”

Moritz bites down on his tongue when he realizes what he’s just said, but luckily Stephan doesn’t focus on that.

“The problem is, Moritz, that Paul doesn’t date _anyone_. He’s never _into_ anyone. God knows what the fuck is up with him but he hasn’t dated anyone since I got to know him. He just spends all his time bothering me with stupid nicknames because Florian said I looked like a cat _once_.”

His tone is tense, like a wire about to snap, so Moritz decides to drop the subject with a quiet apology for being too nosy. They sit in silence for a while and Moritz watches as the tension slowly drains out of Stephan’s body. His shoulders relax and he loosens his grip on the steering wheel. It must have been nice to finally share this with someone, Moritz thinks. The way Stephan spoke about the others knowing made him realize that he has probably never talked this out with anyone.

“I saw your little moment with Arne, by the way,” Stephan grins at him as they stop at a red light. On the one hand, Moritz is glad he’s back to his original light personality instead of this ball of angst, but on the other hand, he really wishes this wasn’t happening right now. He mumbles a _what about it?_ as he decidedly does not look at Stephan, who chuckles under his breath.

“Didn’t think he was your type, to be honest,” Stephan says, “but if you’re wondering, he’s single and extremely bisexual.”

“Oh my god, Stephan,” Moritz groans, and sinks into his seat.

“I’m just saying!”

Moritz feels his face burning as Stephan laughs at him, and he really wants this to be over already. It’s fucking embarrassing, for one. And maybe he wants to get home, put on something on Netflix and think about what he’s just been told about Arne.

The BMW pulls up in front of his house, finally, and Moritz unbuckles himself as quickly as possible.

“Thanks for the ride,” he says with a grateful smile.

“Welcome,” Stephan murmurs. Then, just before Moritz slams the door shut,

“Please don’t tell anyone about…this, alright?”

“Of course. See you on Thursday.”

Stephan pulls out of the driveway and Moritz stands on the sidewalk watching him go until he turns a corner and disappears. He stays there for a few more minutes, lost in thought, before finally entering the house. The exhaustion of the day finally catches up with him, and he passes out almost the second he collapses on the couch.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yup  
> hmm i wonder what paul's deal might be  
> (also stephan looking like a cat is an ongoing joke between friend and i and i just couldn't not include it)  
> hope yall liked it, drop a comment or yell at me on tumblr @cardinalxsin!


	4. in which things really could work out better for Moritz, but he's getting used to his new life of constant mishaps and other frustrations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The early morning shift. Arne Schneider. The unforeseen complications around breakfast. F e e l i n g s.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the working title was "Moritz gets mugged", so you know, read this chapter to find out why! ;)

Moritz wakes up to his morning alarm with a start. He mutters a curse and hits the snooze button, not even lifting his head from the pillow. He’s on office duty today, so he’s not really inclined to do any sort of hurrying. It’s the early morning shift, so he’s probably only going to be doing paperwork and maybe file a few reports. Ten more minutes are okay.

The second alarm brings him more annoyance and a bit more clarity in his mind, and he remembers that the other person on the morning shift is no other than Arne. Which wouldn’t be bad on it’s own. But. Moritz kind of doesn’t know what to make of yesterday’s encounter and it’s left him way more confused than he had initially thought because he has definitely dreamt of Arne and it’s a whole thing. So that might be awkward and distracting, which are not good, especially on his second day.

He rolls over to sit up with a groan, and after a brief fall finds himself lying on the ground, staring up at his coffee table. Yesterday’s memories come rushing back, and he realizes that he fell asleep on the couch minutes after getting out of Stephan’s car. Which means that he didn’t do any shopping as he’d planned. Which means he doesn’t have anything for breakfast. Again. Just as if on cue, his stomach rumbles rather loudly, expressing its discontent at Moritz’s irresponsibility.

“Fuck,” Moritz mutters, and stands up with a weary sigh. It’s a good thing he woke up early, because he needs an extra ten minutes to gather himself and stumble into the bathroom to take a damn shower. He leaves the house just on time, wondering if anything will be open at this time of day so he can get breakfast.

He falls asleep on the bus. Twice. Despite getting almost ten hours of sleep thanks to the surprise pass-out, Moritz is still exhausted. Maybe it’s because getting to know so many people took its toll on his psyche. Or maybe it’s just because it’s dark outside.

Half past four feels exactly like midnight; somewhere between reality and a weird, upside-down world. The orange light of the streetlamps softens the pitch black into a dark, plush purple that covers the sleepy neighbourhoods like a big blanket, drowning out what little sound there is. Moritz lets the quiet rumble of the bus lull him into a half-awake state as he watches the dark city pass him by.

He finds a little bakery a few minutes’ walk from the station. OPEN 24/7, the blue LED sign reads, and Moritz heads inside to find a tired-looking guy, about twenty, sitting behind the counter. The only thing that looks even remotely appetizing are the donuts, and Moritz asks for three of them to go. Then he remembers Arne and quickly doubles his order. He probably won’t have anything against some sweetness to start the day.

There’s nobody in the locker room, which means that Arne is probably already up in the office, as Moritz is literally seconds away from being late. He changes quickly and heads upstairs, box of donuts in hand. The door is propped open with a little post-it note on it saying _close it after yourself :)_ in a busy chicken scratch. Moritz can’t help his grin at the little smiley face, and crumples the note into his pocket. The door falls shut behind him with a loud noise, and he’s about to start looking for Arne when he hears cursing and clattering sounds come from the break room.

“You okay?” he asks, running in there.

He sets the box of donuts on the table and takes in the situation. Arne is standing in front of the sink, staring into it with the most broken look on his face. Moritz comes to stand next to Arne so he can see too: the cutlery-drying basket, along with a good thirty utensils, is lying at the bottom of the sink.

“How did that even happen?”

Arne gives him a tired half-smile. “It’s not even five, Mo. Do you think I have _any_ hand-eye coordination this early?”

He has a point. So Moritz says nothing, just gathers the forks and spoons and sets them back into the drying basket, a bit further from the edge of the sink. He concentrates on his task so he doesn’t get distracted by how close he’s standing to Arne, and how nice his cologne smells.

“Good morning, by the way,” Arne says, and Moritz jumps a little. He is now painfully aware of their physical proximity and it doesn’t help that Arne’s voice in the early morning is deeper and rougher than it was yesterday. A tiny shiver runs down Moritz’s spine at the sound of it, and he steps away from the sink with haste.

“You too. Uh,” he clears his throat, “I brought breakfast.”

He points at the box of donuts, and Arne opens it with a curious face, only to look up at Moritz with the widest grin Moritz has ever seen.

“Because we’re cops, yeah?” he laughs, and takes one with pink frosting on it. “Thanks. D’you want some coffee?”

“Ugh, yes please,” Moritz huffs, grateful that he’s finally going to get his daily fix of caffeine. Also grateful because that means Arne is going to go over to the coffee machine and give him a second to pull himself together, because he hasn’t handled hanging out with Arne too well, so far. Arne licking pink frosting off his finger may have made it worse.

“Gimme your mug then.”

“Come again?”

“Don’t you have a mug?”

Moritz stares a little. At his old precinct, there was just a cupboard full of white ceramic mugs with POLIZEI written on them, and everyone could use them. Why would he have his own mug? Do these people have their own mugs? That’s so fucking weird. He shakes his head no.

Arne reaches into the cupboard above the sink. “Here,” he says, “you can have the _Mug of Shame_.”

Moritz takes it and twists it around in his hand. It’s a pretty simple mug, white and patterned with red little hearts. Simple, yet horrendous. One of the ugliest mugs Moritz has ever seen. He laughs in disbelief.

“Thanks, I guess,” he says, and passes it back to Arne, who takes it with a bright smile. It makes the corners of his eyes wrinkle and Moritz finds that he can’t look away, and just grins back like an idiot. They stand there like that, looking at each other without a word. Moritz bites his lip, barely even noticing it, and Arne’s eyes flick down to his mouth and then back to his eyes and Moritz maybe wants to step closer and close the distance between them –

And then someone knocks on the door of the station, and the moment, barely more than a few seconds, is over. The smile disappears from Arne’s face and Moritz stumbles back a clumsy step.

“I’ll go get it,” he mutters, and darts out of the break room. He lets in the young woman and listens to her story with half a heart, mind still turning over what happened in the break room and trying to make sense of it. He wanted to kiss Arne. Wanted Arne to kiss him. Either way, it was pretty fucking unprofessional. And confusing. And sudden. He’s known this man for a day, and spoken to him thirty words at best. He’s never done things like this, he’s never wanted to kiss anyone after such a short amount of time, and he’s maybe a little upset, judging by his oncoming headache. It doesn’t help that he never got to have breakfast. If only the woman stopped talking… Why do people even have crimes to report at five in the morning?

He leads her to one of the offices and boots up the computer with a sigh, fidgeting with her ID while he’s waiting for everything to start up. She sits quietly on the other side of the table, waiting. It’s probably way too early for her as well.

Moritz finally gets to writing up her personal information and taking her statement when Arne enters the office.

“Here you go,” he says, and sets down the _Mug of Shame_ and a plate with a donut on it on Moritz’s desk. Moritz inhales the sweet smell of coffee and flashes Arne a grateful smile before getting back to filling out the form. Arne, in turn, reaches over and ruffles his hair, then walks out of the office with a cheeky grin on his face. Moritz stares after him for a second, his brain short-circuiting.

The woman coughs awkwardly, and makes him snap out of it. Fuck, he’s almost forgotten she’s even there. He fixes his hair with annoyed movements and turns his attention back to the woman with a put-upon smile.

“Alright then,” he says, accepting his fate of spending a day with boring cases, starting with this one, “let’s find your bike, shall we?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> dhfbgvkjshdvs it was a shitty fucking pun but i couldn't miss it!!! this is how moritz got his shitty ass mug, my friends. y'all are welcome.  
> find me on tumblr, twitter and instagram as @cardinalxsin, leave a comment, kudos, or even a bookmark if you're feeling freaky! (give me attention)  
> thank you for reading!!!!


	5. two quarters and a heart down

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things happen. Some good, some... See for yourself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title from Dance, Dance by Fall Out Boy  
> sorry for the long wait, y'all! life got in the way <3

_Things_ (in italics and with a capital T) start with Moritz nearly dropping a bottle of wine at the store. More precisely, _Things_ start going downhill there. _Things_ start earlier, namely, with Arne texting Moritz after their shift is over.

It’s a simple “ _thanks for the donuts :)_ ” and then a “ _this is arne btw clara gave everyone your number_ ” to clear up confusion, but it does this weird little thing to Moritz that he could only describe with the boring and worn-out cliché of butterflies in his stomach. He saves Arne’s number under a simple cowboy emoji and texts back something neutral and friendly with a faint smile. Because that’s what you do with texts from a work acquaintance. You respond politely and then stop talking.

The second half of that whole thing doesn’t happen. They just somehow keep talking. There are smaller and larger breaks in the conversation here and there when they’re at work. If they have different shifts, they just pick up the conversation when they’re done, and if they’re partnered up, they carry on with it in person.

Arne is hilarious, in his own, laid-back way. He’s a great conversationalist with an agreeable sense of humour, making Moritz laugh with the smallest of things. It’s effortless, really, and that’s what makes it even better. Moritz catches himself checking his phone regularly to see if he has any new messages, and already anticipating the reply immediately after sending a text. Arne occupies his thoughts in about 80% of his waking hours, and it’s honestly not bad. It feels nice to have feelings for someone after so long.

He wouldn’t say he’s falling for Arne. It’s far too early for that, but he’s getting there, at least a small crush going on for now. Clara has caught on quickly, and they talk about it a lot, way more than necessary, abusing FaceTime and staying up late, like they used to in high school. She’s smug as hell about it and he hates it but…alright, it’s a little fun to gossip about boys with his best friend. Yes, he is thirty-two years old, thank you very much.

What’s worse, though, is that it hasn’t escaped the attention of either Stephan or Paul. He wouldn’t mind Stephan, because despite his crass jokes and nagging he really gets how frustrating it can be to have feelings for a colleague. And since Moritz actually considers him a friend at this point, he does actually talk about it with him. (Over drinks. Somehow, Thursday evenings turned into _whining about our shitty oblivious love interests_ nights, and Moritz fears to admit how much he’s grown to like them in the past few weeks.)

Now Paul… Paul is just, tragically, a good policeman, and he somehow managed to figure it out on his own. He’s a little obnoxious about it, but as long as he doesn’t spread the word, Moritz is alright. Of course, he could do without the waggling eyebrows and kissy faces Paul throws his way whenever he has a word with Arne. (He has lots of words with Arne.)

Tom has expressed his approval of Moritz’s taste in men. There’s no need to talk about that any longer, it was traumatic enough to just live through it _once_.

And that is basically everything that leads up to Moritz almost dropping the bottle of cheap rosé he was about to put in his shopping cart. Or… Well. There is one more tiny thing that might have contributed to that. Which is the following text from Arne:

_“wanna go out for drinks with me tonight?”_

Moritz puts the rosé down with careful hands (he’s definitely not shaking from a traitorous surge of adrenaline) and texts back a very careful _“sure, sounds great!”_

And then he calls Stephan _immediately_.

Moritz arrives to the bar dressed a _little_ nicer than usual, because it’s not really a high profile place. More like a hole in the wall type of thing but everyone from the station goes there and the drinks are good. Weirdly, he’s just as nervous as he was on his first day, trying to convince himself that he’s going to be alright. It’s Arne, _just Arne_ , and however much he likes him it’s going to be fine because they get along. It’s okay.

Things seem to explode in his face the second he walks through the door. It takes him a second to figure out that what he’s hearing is people screaming SURPRISE and loud music. Not to mention the flashing lights. His first reaction is murmuring a quiet _what the fuck_ under his breath, before realizing he’s probably ruined someone’s birthday party.

Except…

All the people at the bar are his colleagues. He can see Tom and Muri, Peggy, Micha, Gino, Stephan and Paul… Literally everyone from Mülheim is there and they’re all smiling at _him_ for some reason. The only people he can’t seem to find with his eyes are Arne and Clara.

Scratch that, actually. It’s only Arne he can’t see. Clara is suddenly right in front of him, grinning up at him. Moritz smiles back tentatively.

“What is all this?” he asks, making a vague hand gesture at the gathering. Clara smiles even wider.

“Your one-month party! It’s officially been a month since you started here, and we thought we could surprise you a little!”

_Well… I’m certainly surprised,_ Moritz thinks slightly bitterly. Because this probably means that Arne asking him out was just a ploy to get him here. Obviously. He’s so fucking stupid.

“Thanks, Clara,” he manages, “it’s really nice.”

“Glad you like it!” she beams, and leans up on her tiptoes to give him a little kiss on the cheek. “Go get drunk, you deserve it.”

Moritz heads off without an answer. It’s not that he deserves it. He fucking needs it, otherwise he’s going to cry and that absolutely cannot happen.

He has his first drink with Ben and Erik, who congratulate him on his first month at “this shitshow” and then promptly leave after ten minutes. Which might be a good idea because Erik is making _eyes_ at Ben and… Yeah better not do things in public after all.

His second drink is free. A handsome man buys it for him (as a way to finally say hi to him – his words), and they chat a little. His name is Robin, and Moritz briefly considers hitting on him to distract himself from the heartache left from the almost-date. But then Robin mentions a fiancé and Moritz finally puts two and two together. Especially when Florian comes over to their table and gives Robin a cutesy kiss on the cheek. So he just thanks the drink and leaves them.

He drinks his third one alone, deliberately taking way too big sips so he can blame the burn in his throat on the alcohol. And definitely not on Arne Schneider, whom he finally sees in the crowd, talking to a woman. Having a laugh. Just a jolly good fucking time. Moritz sets his empty glass back on the counter with a little more force than necessary and forces himself to look the fuck away.

He’s halfway through his fifth(!) drink – and he’s certainly feeling it (drank number 4 way too quickly) – when Stephan sits down next to him. He’s also a little wobbly, with red cheeks and a lopsided smile – and he looks fucking heartbroken.

“What’s up?” Moritz asks (slurs), turning to face Stephan. The motion makes his head spin a little and he swallows against the nausea (that’s probably more from Arne still talking to that woman and less from the alcohol).

“Nothing,” Stephan laughs, “I’m having the time of my _fucking_ life here.”

“Paul?”

“Paul.”

Moritz nods, not even needing an explanation. Stephan has every right to be a mess over Paul because Paul is the absolute worst. For a policeman as good as him, he’s all too oblivious and usually just ends up hurting Stephan. Which is bad. He raises his half-empty glass in a pathetic toast.

“Fuck him.”

“Fuck him,” Stephan echoes, and clinks their glasses together. They down their drinks simultaneously, make the same grimace, and signal for another one completely in sync.

“What got you down, kid?” Stephan asks after a while of silence and sitting next to each other like two sad birds on a power line.

“Arne, obviously,” Moritz says. He’s not in the mood to elaborate. He’s really not. He wants to fucking forget about all this.

“Fuck him,” Stephan chuckles bitterly.

“Yeah, that’s not going to happen,” Moritz mutters. He takes another sip. “I just want to forget about him and hook up with someone instead of pining like a loser.”

“Same,” Stephan huffs, and downs the rest of his whisky.

Moritz watches his Adam’s apple bob with the swallowing motion. Up and down. His mouth goes dry as an idea starts to form in his clouded mind. They could… They just could… When did Stephan get so fucking attractive anyway? Or has he just never noticed before?

His eyes meet Stephan’s and Moritz feels a deep blush slowly spread across his cheeks. Stephan’s eyes are so intense, so enchanting, he just can’t make himself look away. What’s worse is that he doesn’t want to. As though he were pulled on a string, Moritz leans a little closer in his seat. Stephan smiles at him, dark and predatory and fucking sexy, makes Moritz’s head spin, the haze of alcohol and _want_ nearly blinding him.

There’s a stray moment of clarity, a fleeting thought about Arne. Moritz pushes it into the back of his mind, willing himself to ignore it. Arne is having his fun somewhere with that woman, so why shouldn’t he get to have a little fun of his own? He looks Stephan in the eye once more, to see if he’s reading things right, to see if this is okay, and –

“For fuck’s sake, just come here,” Stephan murmurs. Moritz parts his lips in surprise as big hands cup his cheeks, pulling him even closer. Stephan’s lips on his are gentle, almost tentative, and Moritz sighs in satisfaction before grabbing onto the front of Stephan’s shirt and pulling him even closer, returning the kiss with no hesitation. It’s perfect. It’s exactly what he needs. Or maybe – definitely – more.

Fuck Arne Schneider anyway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oh no what the fuck is up here???? find out more in the next chapter.   
> comments and kudos are welcome, or find me on tumblr as @cardinalxsin!


	6. Expensive Mistakes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> If it feels like they're barrelling headfirst into a huge mistake...that's because they are. anyway, this chapter is porn. have fun.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> whoohooo after nine months almost exactly TO THE DAY i'm back with the 6th chapter! i promised myself i'd finish this today so here i am but at what cost......anyways! enjoy! :)

Stephan, Moritz decides, should be fucking illegal. The alcohol might be making matters worse, now that he thinks about it, but even disregarding its effects, Stephan is still pretty damn amazing at making out. He’s got Moritz backed up against the bar counter and at this point Moritz barely even notices how uncomfortably the edge of it is digging into his back.

Mostly because Stephan’s lips are on his neck, covering his skin with kisses (and a fair amount of beard burn), occasionally biting down here and there. It fucking sucks because Stephan somehow finds his most sensitive spots _on instinct_ and Moritz can barely do more than hiss and bite down on his bottom lip because he categorically refuses to let a moan slip in a public place like this, surrounded by his coworkers.

His hands are tangled into Stephan’s hair, which comes in handy because he can easily pull Stephan back up again for another kiss. It’s hurried and vicious, a fucking mess overall, but Moritz cannot bring himself to care. Stephan’s lips on his, his teeth nipping at his lower lip, his tongue slipping into his mouth… Moritz groans into Stephan’s mouth and pushes himself closer to him, until their hips are flush against each other.

Stephan breaks the kiss, panting against Moritz’s lips. His breath smells like whisky and it’s actually really fucking hot, so Moritz tries to pull him back for another kiss. Stephan stops him with two firm hands on his hips, pushing him away. Moritz scowls up at him indignantly.

“Nuh-uh, greedy,” Stephan murmurs, “let me talk first.”

“I don’t want to fucking talk,” Moritz sneers, “why do we need to talk when we could just keep on doing this?”

“I mean if you don’t feel like talking,” Stephan says, his thumbs rubbing circles on Moritz’s hipbones in a rather distracting manner, “I can just get you off in the bathroom and be done with it, or –”

Stephan pushes his thigh between Moritz’s legs and it makes Moritz suddenly painfully aware of how hard he is, and he interrupts Stephan with a low moan. He bites down on his tongue, embarrassed, because he really didn’t mean to _moan_ but fuck… Yeah that’s about all thought left in his head: an endless stream of _fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck_.

“Or what?” he manages to say, forcing his tongue to work the way he wants it. When did he forget how talking works?

“Or I could take you home and we could have some proper fun.”

With that, Stephan leans close and brushes a soft kiss against Moritz’s lips. It’s so fucking gentle, and so not enough, and Moritz almost whines as he chases after Stephan’s mouth needily. Stephan has the audacity to fucking laugh at him, the bastard.

“You want that, kid?” he asks, in that deep, husky voice that he apparently gets when he’s turned on – it really is a night of discoveries, Moritz thinks – and kisses him again. This time it’s aggressive, bruising, and Moritz almost lets himself get lost in it before he remembers he wanted to answer. He breaks the kiss, pulling away slightly, barely an inch between them.

“Yeah,” he pants against Stephan’s lips, “fuck yeah I want that. Let’s get out of here.”

Stephan lets him go immediately and pushes himself away.

“I’ll go get our coats, meet me outside,” he growls, and he’s gone before Moritz can blink once. He drinks what’s left in his glass in one big gulp and grimaces against the bitter taste and the burn of the alcohol. At least it gets him to his senses a little and he can take a second to look around.

Luckily, no one is staring at him or coming over. He can see Arne with his back to him, now talking to Marc and having a laugh, probably. Moritz doesn’t let himself wonder about what could have happened to the woman. Curiously, he can’t spot Paul, even though he could have sworn he was still around. Well. Fuck Paul anyway, wasn’t that the point of this? Moritz shrugs and heads out into the pleasantly warm September night.

Stephan is waiting for him just outside the bar. He’s leaning against the brick wall, his leather jacket hanging on his shoulders, Moritz’s own sweatshirt in his hand. He’s looking at his phone, and he looks entirely illegal. Moritz has to wonder if he’s positioned himself under the streetlight on purpose, because this can only be intentional. The way half of his face is covered in shadows and the shade of his brows hides his eyes in the darkness cannot be an accident. It looks almost poetic. His hair is dishevelled and his lips kiss-bruised, and Moritz cannot fathom his beauty for a second. _Paul Richter is a fool for missing out on this_ , he thinks to himself.

And then he promptly realizes that he’s about to miss out on it as well if he doesn’t snap out of it, so he makes himself stop staring at Stephan. It’s time to go.

Stephan looks up from his phone and grins at Moritz. It’s so fucking smug Moritz wants to punch him. Or kiss him. Okay, he wants to kiss Stephan. It’s really not his fault, the man is a fantastic kisser and he’s _horny_.

Stephan hands him his sweatshirt and when Moritz puts it on he reaches for his hand. Moritz lets him thread their fingers together without a moment of doubt, and they start walking like that. It could almost be called romantic if Moritz wasn’t so fucking tense, but as things are he can only think about Stephan, about getting his hands on him, about the sounds he could make. It’s a special kind of torture.

“Do you live far?” Moritz asks, hoping he doesn’t sound as desperate as he is.

“Not at all,” Stephan chuckles, “about three more minutes. Why? Are you so impatient already?”

Moritz decides it’s in his best interest not to answer that.

Stephan’s flat is… _nice_ , in the most basic sense of the word. It’s tidy and organised, it has a decent view on the park… It’s a nice place altogether. And that’s about the amount of attention Moritz decides to waste on it before practically jumping on Stephan.

Getting to kiss him again after what must have been at least – the horror – fifteen minutes feels _amazing._ He throws his arms around Stephan’s neck and pulls him closer, even closer, deepening the kiss and letting out a quiet little moan from how good the scratch of Stephan’s beard feels. Stephan returns the kiss with the same hurried intensity, and Moritz wants to laugh at how Stephan is just as desperate as he is.

Stephan has a bruising grip on his waist that Moritz can’t decide if he likes or not. It’s hot, yes, but he’s not about to let _Stephan_ of all people overpower him. But as things are, he doesn’t have much leverage, and Stephan even has the advantage of knowing the layout of the apartment. With all that taken into consideration, Moritz is, although slightly indignant, not at all surprised at how easily Stephan can push him around wherever he wants him. Which is how he finds himself lying on the bed, Stephan on top of him.

“Hi,” Stephan grins down at him.

“Shut the fuck up,” he hisses in return, and pulls Stephan down for another kiss. At this point he’s just fucking impatient and wants more than PG-13 making out on Stephan’s bed, and he’s about to take matters into his hands when…

When Stephan rolls his hips down against his and Moritz lets out an embarrassingly loud moan. He’s forgotten how turned on he was and now that he got such an effective reminder, he’s about twice as desperate as before.

And he also kinda wants to punch Stephan for laughing at him.

He manages to come up with a solution that more or less covers both of his needs. He makes use of the self-defence techniques he’s learned in his training back in the academy days, wrapping his arms and legs around Stephan’s torso and flipping them over.

Straddling Stephan is very different from being beneath him. Despite his wider frame, Stephan seems almost _small_ as he immediately relaxes and starts to melt into the mattress, staring up at Moritz with wide eyes. His lips are parted in a deliciously inviting way, and he’s panting ever so slightly. He looks so soft and innocent like this that Moritz can’t help but agree with Paul’s nickname for him. He really isn’t unlike a kitten. Moritz wants to fucking wreck him.

He pushes himself up to stand at the foot of the bed. He’s all too aware of Stephan’s eyes fixed on him, and smiles down at him in a reassuring way.

“Don’t worry, I’ll be right back with you,” he drawls, and decides not to be smug about the way Stephan visibly relaxes at that. He tugs off his shirt with one swift motion, and gets to work on his belt right after. He doesn’t have to look at Stephan to know that his eyes are roaming all over his body, taking in every detail. Moritz doesn’t like to call himself conceited, but he maintains a healthy amount of pride around his body. He makes quick work of getting rid of his pants. Now clad in only his boxers, he looks at Stephan once again.

Stephan is a mess, if Moritz has ever seen one. He’s half-sitting up, propped up on his elbows, staring up at Moritz with big, pleading eyes. His cheeks are flushed red and there’s a painful-looking tent in his jeans. It’s adorable, somewhere deep down, that it only took Moritz taking control for a minute to get him to lose his cocky attitude.

Moritz never thought he would one day call Stephan _cute_ , but there just isn’t a more fitting word. The way Stephan collapses back onto the bed as Moritz crawls on top of him once again is cute. The little whine he exhales into Moritz’s mouth as he kisses him is cute. And when Moritz brushes a teasing hand against his clothed erection and his eyes slip closed as he moans… _Cute._

“Moritz, please,” Stephan groans as Moritz doesn’t let up on his gentle touches, not granting him any satisfaction, only riling him up more.

“Please what?” he husks into Stephan’s ear.

Is he making answering easy for Stephan? He’s not. He’s trailing soft kisses along Stephan’s jaw, letting himself enjoy the roughness of his beard on his lips. Stephan’s hands are on his hips, his grip strong but not dominating, more of a way of telling Moritz to _please don’t stop_.

“You’re an asshole,” he finally manages to breathe out.

“That’s not a request,” Moritz retaliates, barely able to keep the grin off his face because he _knows_ Stephan is rolling his eyes.

“Fine,” Stephan huffs, annoyed. “ _Please_ fuck me?”

“See, that wasn’t so hard, was it?”

But Moritz knows he shouldn’t push Stephan so far, no matter how fun it is to tease him. So he kisses him again, slow and deep, enjoying the desperation in the way Stephan kisses him back. Stephan all but melting underneath him is a little surprising, but a welcome surprise at that.

“Being pretty doesn’t make up for being a jerk,” Stephan mutters into the space between their lips, breaths coming in hot puffs. He’s visibly fighting to stay on top of his game and be an ass, so Moritz bites down on his Adam’s apple just to hear him moan.

“Aww, you think I’m pretty?” Moritz grins, without a trace of sweetness in his voice.

“I have eyes,” Stephan grumbles, looking away.

“For what it’s worth, I think you’re pretty too.”

“Yeah?” Stephan licks his lips, “fuck me about it then.”

Moritz laughs but rises to the challenge. He unzips Stephan’s fly with hands trembling from anticipation, tugging down the jeans and the underwear with the same swift motion. Stephan hisses at the cool air and Moritz laughs at him on reflex. He scoots back on the bed so he can take Stephan’s pants off completely and by the time that is done and he’s crawled back up, Stephan’s gotten rid of his shirt as well.

“Lube?” Moritz asks, impatient, and Stephan makes a vague gesture toward the nightstand. With an annoyed sound, Moritz retrieves the bottle as well as the box of condoms next to it.

“How do you wanna do this?” he asks, once again bracketing Stephan’s body with his own, Stephan’s eyes fixed on him in wonder.

“Like this,” he mutters, and Moritz doesn’t make fun of him for wanting to be pinned down and made small while Moritz wrecks him.

He sits back on his haunches, between Stephan’s legs, and places his hands on Stephan’s knees. Pushing up and apart at the same time, he gets Stephan to bend his legs and plant his feet on the bed, letting his knees fall open to allow Moritz access.

Grabbing the lube, Moritz looks down at Stephan without any joke or mocking for once.

“You okay?” he asks, making deliberate eye contact.

“Yeah,” Stephan nods, “I’m… I want this. Please.”

“Okay,” Moritz murmurs, then again, more rushed, “okay,” before he’s uncapping the lube and slicking up, muffling Stephan’s moan with a kiss as he enters him with a careful finger. He works Stephan open carefully but not any slower than absolutely necessary, distracting him from the occasionally uncomfortable stretch with biting and sucking an array of hickies into his neck. Stephan’s hands never stay in one place; skimming down Moritz’s side nervously, holding onto him with a small gasp when Moritz finds his prostate, reaching down to stroke himself in time with Moritz’s thrusts.

“I’m fine,” he groans eventually, his free hand pushing gently at Moritz’s chest, “can you get to it?”

“Yeah,” Moritz pants, and then he pulls away, pretending not to hear Stephan’s wince from the sudden, empty feeling. His boxers go and he makes quick work of the condom, and he’s back on top of Stephan before he could get cold, slick and blunt against his entrance.

“God,” Stephan whines lowly as Moritz slowly enters him, easing in with short, slow thrusts. It’s not too long before he’s pressed flush against Stephan and he drops his head onto Stephan’s chest, breaths quick and shallow.

“Dammit,” Moritz swears, and Stephan almost asks if he’s okay when Moritz finally lifts himself up and starts moving. All thoughts fly out Stephan’s head as he takes it, stroking himself in tandem with Moritz’s movements, brain overflowing with ecstasy.

Neither of them last long. Stephan comes with a loud groan, whole body shaking from the force of it, and Moritz follows after him, the tightening of Stephan’s muscles milking it out of him. He pulls out carefully and takes care of the condom, Stephan giving him directions to the bathroom where he can dispose of it.

Moritz flops back down on the bed with a tired sound. Stephan is a mess but he doesn’t mind, crawling over to him for a slightly gross and kinda awkward, but still welcome cuddle.

“Was this a mistake?” he mumbles against Stephan’s chest, enjoying the way Stephan plays with his hair.

“Stay the night and find out?” Stephan asks with a grin, but his heartbeat betrays the sincerity of the question.

“I don’t think that should happen,” Moritz argues, “just…let me take a quick shower or something and I’ll be out of your hair.”

“Shower’s all yours,” Stephan shrugs – an impressive feat lying down – but he doesn’t let Moritz go, keeps holding him close, keeps playing with his hair. Not that Moritz minds. It feels nice and warm and _good_. Even if it was just them coping and taking out their frustration on each other. Even if it was a mistake.

Moritz falls asleep there.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks for reading once again! comments and kudos always welcome :) find me on tumblr and other assorted social media as @cardinalxsin and say hi! (if you see a mistake, feel free to point it out just don't be an asshole about it.)


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